Battlestar Galactica (2004) is one of the most theologically rich shows to come on television in the past ten years. As with all good science fiction, there is more going on here than robots and spaceships, though (as with all good science fiction) those elements may serve as an obstacle for people who might appreciate the show’s weightier themes but have no interest in its fantastical aspects. My hope in writing on this show is that some of you who may have written it off might decide to give it a chance and that those of you who already love it may see it through a different lens.
Until recently, I’ve been a little intimidated to tackle this show, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. I found comfort in the words of Elijah Davidson, who told me that I shouldn’t feel the pressure to address every theme in the series. That’s quite a relief, since this particular show is rather loaded. While the ideas of what happens when we play God, the inclination of creatures to rebel against their creator, or even the show’s blatant dialogue about polytheism vs. monotheism may come up, none of these motifs will be my primary focus.
Instead, I want to concentrate on the way the characters in the series leave behind a life of comfort and security to become a pilgrim people. I think that there is much the Western church can learn from the journey of Galactica’s crew and the other survivors. I grew up in a Christian household, and even in my lifetime I have seen the sure signs of the church’s transition from the position it once held. All around us there are signs of this transition: debates about the way science should be taught in schools, whether prayer should be allowed in those same schools, or what the law should be concerning same-sex marriage are just a few examples.
Regardless of how we feel about the myriad of issues facing the church in Western culture today, it cannot be denied that they present challenges for its continued existence. There are a variety of different reactions we may have towards these challenges: hiding from society, warring with it, or possibly surrendering to it. I want to examine the ways in which the survivors of our series deal with the many challenges to their continued existence and compare that with the church’s current place in our society.
One of the most exciting ideas I’ve come across in the past year is the proposal that the church offers a narrative of adventure to a world that craves such a story but doesn’t generate anything of the kind. One of the books I’ve read put it this way, “The church is a colony, an island of one culture in the middle of another. In baptism our citizenship is transferred from one dominion to another, and we become, in whatever culture we find ourselves, resident aliens… The decline of the old, Constantinian synthesis between the church and the world means that we American Christians are at last free to be faithful in a way makes being a Christian today an exciting adventure” (Resident Aliens, 12-19).
The idea of an adventure is often romanticized, but any good adventure has its share of dark threats. Thankfully the Bible offers us great comfort that these threats will not ultimately be victorious. Indeed I believe that much can be learned about the idea of a narrative of adventure if we examine the scriptures. After all, the church didn’t begin in a place of prestige, quite the opposite actually. Often I think of adventures as something in which one chooses to participate, but Battlestar Galactica shows us that sometimes they are thrust upon us. How will we react when the church’s place in Western society is no longer secure?